


Growing Pains (Let Me Grow Into You)

by tongyi



Category: iKON (Kpop)
Genre: Implied Underage, M/M, Pre-debut, Puberty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tongyi/pseuds/tongyi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Puberty majorly sucks, until it doesn't. Three times puberty was deeply inconvenient for Hanbin and once it wasn't. Also on <a href="http://yisuo.livejournal.com/856.html">livejournal</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains (Let Me Grow Into You)

1.

The first time _it_ happens, Hanbin’s in class. One moment he’s leaning his head on his hand, listening with one ear as the teacher reads aloud from their English textbook. The next, his dick is stiffening and pressing against the stiff fabric of his uniform pants, apropos of nothing.

He shoots straight up in his seat, blush flooding his cheeks. The kid in the seat next to his, a guy named Lee Sanguk Hanbin’s known since elementary school, glances over.

“You okay?” he mouths, raising his eyebrows.

Hanbin nods. “Fine,” he responds through pressed lips. Carefully, even though every movement feels conspicuous, he slides his binder off his desk and into his lap, pressing it against his erection.

Unfortunately, Sanguk’s eyes follow the action and he notices. His mouth twists into a sympathetic grimace. “Ooh. Sorry, man. Good luck.”

Hanbin barely inclines his head in a nod this time, keeping his eyes straight ahead. His head is pounding with the force of his embarrassment. Unwanted boners had seemed hilarious that time Bobby had gotten one during rap practice and refused to get up from his seat, jacket bunched over his lap, until their coach left. Hanbin and Jinhwan had almost cried laughing at the look on his face, but right now Hanbin just kind of wants to cry, period. He feels like his entire body is about to combust, helped not at all by the looks Sanguk keeps shooting him, like he can’t stop watching the car wreck of Hanbin's humiliation.

Hanbin slides further down in his chair, now lifting the binder a little away from his dick before he starts humping his math homework or something. God. Hanbin seriously wants to die. At least the teacher, writing vocabulary words on the board, hasn’t noticed, nor has anyone else in the class save Sanguk. Hanbin tries to think of the least sexy things he can.

_Cockroaches. Rotting garbage. Pigeons. No, pigeon poop. Bobby-hyung’s sweaty armpits. Bobby-hyung’s sweaty, hairy armpits. That time sajangnim made me cry. Actually, sajangnim. Park Jinyoung’s plastic pants. Sajangnim in Park Jinyoung’s plastic pants._

At the last thought, a full-body shiver runs down his spine. It's also a pretty effective deterrent for his dick, which doesn't seem as eager now. Hanbin exhales in relief. Sanguk is outright staring at him now, ignoring the textbook propped up in front of him.

A note lands on his desk. Hanbin unfolds it. In Sanguk’s round script it reads, _you good? if you need to run to the bathroom I have firecrackers in my desk!_

Hanbin smiles. Sanguk's a good friend. He slides the binder out of his lap and back onto his desk, face returning to a normal temperature. He looks at Sanguk and nods, giving him a thumbs up. Easy-peasy solution. Just think about sajangnim in plastic pants. On the one hand, Hanbin no longer has an erection in the middle of his freshman English class. On the other hand, Hanbin isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to get it up ever again.

 

2.

Jinhwan and Bobby are wrestling when Hanbin gets to the practice room. Or, more accurately, Bobby has Jinhwan pinned to the floor and one of his arms twisted behind his back while he sits on him. Jinwhan is either crying or laughing as he squirms and slaps ineffectually at Bobby’s thigh, Hanbin can’t tell. On second thought, he doesn’t care.

“What are you doing?” Hanbin asks, voice rising almost to a shout. “Our evaluation is _next week_. If you two have time to goof off, you have time to practice more.”

Bobby lets go of Jinhwan’s arm, pouting up at Hanbin through the floppy fringe that at fifteen he thought looked cool but really just made him look like a mop. “Aw, Hanbin,” he says in the same tone people use on small dogs who bark loudly and pull at their leashes when dogs twice their size walks by. “We were just having some fun. You know, there’s an English saying about this. _All work and no play makes Hanbin a dull boy_. I’ll translate it for you. All work and no play makes Hanbin a hard-ass who seriously needs—”

“Okay,” Hanbin says. “That is unnecessary.” Also, please, his English isn't that bad.

Jinhwan has his chin propped up on his hands now, looking strangely comfortable for someone lying on a hardwood floor with a barely housetrained animal sitting on his back. “What's with the mood, Hanbin? Bad day at school?”

Bobby snickers, and Hanbin feels the blush crawl up his neck. It’s so fucking annoying when Bobby and Jinhwan pull the hyung card. So what if he had a shitty day at school? Practice is still practice. They should take it more seriously.

“Whatever,” he snaps, stalking over to the computer.

“Teenagers are hard to raise,” Bobby says to Jinhwan. He doesn’t even bother to lower his voice. Asshole.

“He's going through his difficult years,” Jinhwan sighs. At least he makes the effort of pitching his voice into a whisper, not that it matters. There are only the three of them in the room.

“What should we do?”

“Well, we could always—”

“Maybe you two could _start practicing_. You know, what we’re here for?” Hanbin jams his USB into the drive with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

Behind him, Bobby and Jinhwan have fallen silent. The seconds tick by as Hanbin pulls up the music files for this month’s evaluation, and he starts to feel kind of bad. The tension that's been coiling up in him throughout the day has been steadily unraveling out since he got to the studios. Yelling at Bobby and Jinhwan, though guilt-inducing, always functions as a good stress-reliever.

He turns around, an apology on his lips.

This is the moment Bobby and Jinhwan choose to attack, arms outstretched. Hanbin's arm shoots out to block out of instinct, but four hands is still two more than he has, so Jinhwan manages to wiggle his cold fingers beneath his sweatshirt. And then Bobby, arms tied, starts blowing as hard as he can in the direction of Hanbin's neck, managing to cover them all in a spray of spit.

Hanbin lets out a yelp, the weight of both Bobby and Jinhwan bearing down on him sending them toppling over. They crash to the floor, Bobby holding him down as Jinhwan tickles him. Hanbin is giggling and trying to kick Jinhwan, who wises up and sits on his thighs, going for his sides with a single-minded determination.

"I hate you," Hanbin says in between gasps. “Both of you. I’m trading you in for Jinwoo-hyung and Taehyun-hyung.”

"You love us," Bobby and Jinhwan say in unison. Above him, they high five.

 

3.

"Wait, did you hear that? Play it back, play it back, that part right there—"

A pause as Bobby rewinds. Hanbin would reach over to punch him if Jinhwan's arm around him wasn't so comfortable after his all-nighter finishing the very song they are currently making fun of. Bobby finds the offending time stamp and plays it again. They all listen, Hanbin grumbling against the soft skin of Jinhwan's neck. There it is. Hanbin's voice breaking right in the middle of the hook, rising to a prepubescent pitch. Hanbin knew he should've just re-recorded the guiding track. But at four in the morning, the inside of his skull burning with exhaustion, that had seemed like hell. Bobby swivels back around to Jinhwan, mouth spreading into a shit-eating grin. "Dude. Our Hanbin is finally a man."

Forget punching. Hanbin is going to murder Bobby. _I'm sorry_ , he mentally communicates to Bobby's nice mom in the States.

“Fuck you,” he mutters into Jinhwan’s shoulder. He'll commit homicide later, when he feels like a real person again. “I’d like to see you do better.”

“I totally could,” Bobby says, sniffing. He totally couldn’t. Hanbin’s heard him sing before. But the hand he reaches out to scratch gently at his scalp is a nice enough concession, and Hanbin lets it go.

 

1.

Hanbin knows he’s being kind of an asshole about the whole growth spurt thing, but he’s been on the receiving end for too long. The look on Bobby’s face at their first practice back from chuseok when he realized Hanbin’s eyeline was finally level with his had been priceless. Hanbin’s had a reasonable amount of success in his short life thus far, but the self-satisfaction he felt in that moment was top five for sure.

“Sorry to leave you behind, hyung,” Hanbin says solemnly, resting a hand on the top of Jinhwan’s head. With the eight centimeter growth spurt, his head now clears Jinhwan’s by exactly eight centimeters. Jinhwan’s scap is warm, if slightly oily, under his palm. “I’d share if I could, but—” he shrugs, “—it’s every man for himself out here.”

Jinhwan swats at Hanbin’s hand. “Fuck off, Hanbin,” he says, laughing. “I don’t need your pity.”

Hanbin meets Bobby’s eyes over Jinhwan’s head. Bobby raises his eyebrow in a question. Hanbin hears it, loud and clear. He nods in response.

Bobby hooks his arms through and under Jinhwan’s armpits, raising him a little.

“Hey, what the fuck—”

Just avoiding getting kicked, Hanbin makes a grab at Jinhwan’s flailing legs, tucking them under his arms.

“Ready?” Bobby asks over Jinhwan’s increasingly hysterical shouts.

Hanbin bounces on the balls of his feet, getting Jinhwan’s legs more firmly underneath his arms. “I’ve been waiting for this day all my life.”

Bobby’s face breaks out into the delighted smile he gets right before he’s about to cause an undue amount of mischief. Hanbin's favorite Bobby face, as long as he's on the right end of it. “On three then,” he says cheerfully.

Jinhwan’s threats to disembowel them are lost in a shriek as Bobby and Hanbin break out in a gallop around the practice room, all the while shouting Wonder Girls’ _Be My Baby_ at the top of their lungs. Puberty is awesome.

 

(1: _the cold shower remix_

Hanbin jumps and almost cracks his skull open on the showerhead when the glass door slides open behind him.

It’s Jinhwan, who lets out a snort of amusement. He nudges Hanbin over to get under the spray, tugging at the bottle of shampoo Hanbin has clutched to his chest.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, hyung,” he grumbles, handing the shampoo over. It’s February, cold enough that anywhere not immediately under the hot water gets chilly real fast. He lets Jinhwan step in next to him then closes the gap, the slide of his skin wet against Jinhwan’s.

“You deserve it after that shit you and Bobby pulled earlier,” Jinhwan says, handing the shampoo bottle back to Hanbin. He rubs his hands together, working the soap into a lather before massaging it through his hair. There's reproach in his voice, but Hanbin knows he's not actually mad. Jinhwan is too easygoing for that.

Hanbin tries not to laugh at the memory of tiny Jinhwan-hyung flopping between his and Bobby’s arms, but it’s a doomed attempt from the start. He lets out a cackle, pouring a generous amount of shampoo into his palm for himself. “Aw come on, hyung. We were just having some fun.”

Jinhwan doesn’t answer, just sighs and bends his head to rinse, back muscles flexing as he runs his hand through his hair. With the heat radiating off of Jinhwan’s skin, Hanbin is suddenly hyper-aware of their proximity—of the fading acne scars on Jinhwan’s narrow shoulders, the streams of water running down Jinhwan’s chest in an honestly obscene manner, his own dick hanging flaccid and weird between his legs, _Jinhwan’s_ dick hanging—

He gulps, and promptly chokes shampoo up his nose.

Jinhwan turns to him, peering worriedly up at him through his wet bangs as he pounds Hanbin on the back, palm hot against Hanbin’s skin. “You okay?”

The shower stall is way too small for this. Their dorm is way too small for this. Possibly their entire friendship is too small for this. They’ve all snuck looks and compared before, trying to one-up each other in the kind of homoerotic dick-waving teenage boys pass off as masculinity. Hell, Hanbin knows what Jinhwan's dick looks like, knows that he, Bobby, and Jinhwan are all basically the same size, Bobby maybe edging out him or Jinhwan by a little—though he’d only admit to that out loud under threat of torture, and maybe not even then. And, okay, yeah, Hanbin's borrowed flashes of Bobby's abs or Jinhwan's mouth when jerking off. It's sometimes easier to picture them, or Jinwoo's eyes or Taehyun's legs or Seungyoon's hands, than it is to conjure up an image of round breasts, perky nipples, the soft flare of hips out of Hanbin’s negative experience. Beat off to what you know, right?

Speaking of beating off, Hanbin glances south. True to form, his dick is already responding to the mental images, to Jinhwan’s hand rubbing circles on his back. Jesus. Hanbin turns slightly to the side. It’s not embarrassing yet, but anymore of this and it will be.

“Alright, I’m heading out,” he says, trying to play it casual, setting the shampoo back on the shelf. “Don’t use up all the hot water, hyung.”

“Ah, wait—”

When Hanbin looks at Jinhwan again, he’s chewing on his lower lip. Water runs a trail from collar bone to dark nipple and Hanbin seriously needs, like, at least three walls between him and Jinhwan right now.

He shifts from left foot to right foot, hunching his shoulders and resisting the urge to cup his hands in front of his crotch. “Ha, what’s up hyung? It can’t wait?”

Jinhwan looks up at him, determined. “I don’t know,” he says. Then he drags his eyes down the long, tortuous path to Hanbin’s stomach. He gestures vaguely. “Can you wait?”

Hanbin is truly, utterly speechless with shock. His throat is dry and his cheeks are hot, and the intent behind Jinhwan’s question drops like a weight in his stomach, settling heavy in his dick.

“Um,” he finally chokes out. “I, uh, what?”

Jinhwan sighs, then slides a hand around Hanbin’s waist. Hanbin almost jumps and cracks his skull on the showerhead again. Jinhwan steps closer, then even closer, until he can slip a knee between Hanbin’s legs, hands circling Hanbin’s waist. He digs his nails in a little at the small of Hanbin’s back and Hanbin can’t help it—he lets out a whine, knees weak. Jinhwan smiles, looking relieved, then moves his hand even lower until it’s on the curve of Hanbin’s ass.

He squeezes, and Hanbin does jump this time.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he bangs his head on the slick tile behind him. “Hyung, you better not be fucking with me, this isn’t funny—”

Jinhwan drops to his knees, and Hanbin almost bites through his tongue.

“Who’s laughing,” Jinhwan murmurs, and then he’s running a hand up the inside of Hanbin’s leg, tracing the muscle from knee to inner thigh. Every hair on Hanbin’s body rises in response, and he has to clench his fists to keep from reaching for his cock himself. He can tell something’s about to happen, possibly the hottest thing in his young life, as long as he can just control himself long enough not to embarrass himself all over Jinhwan’s face. Jinhwan wraps a hand around the base of Hanbin’s cock, giving it a firm squeeze. The time it takes Hanbin to reach full hardness in response is shameful. But Jinhwan beams up at him, rewarding him with a tug on his balls.

 _Oh my God_ , Hanbin thinks, the only instinct cutting through the haze in his mind the immediate, primal ones: arousal, and the desire to push his hips forward, get some friction. But then, with Jinhwan’s warm, sweet mouth centimeters away—no, millimeters, really, so close he can feel a puff of warm air against his cock—another thought cuts through: _no, wait, not yet._

“Hold on, hold on, wait,” Hanbin manages, getting a hand in Jinhwan’s wet hair to stop his progress.

“What?” Jinhwan sits back on his heels, looking embarrassed and trying not to, but he’s blinking rapidly and swallowing, his biggest tells. There’s a flush crawling up his chest, and Hanbin chances a look down. Another jolt of arousal when he notices Jinhwan’s half-hard dick heavy against his thigh, and Hanbin has to close his eyes for a moment to center himself.

“Okay,” Hanbin says with renewed determination, dropping to his knees and scooting forward until his and Jinhwan’s are almost touching. He almost slips on the way because of the water, ending his idol career. The prolonged shower is starting to prune his fingers, but he’s determined to get this right. He leans into Jinhwan’s personal space, hands hovering awkward above his shoulders. “Can I—?”

Jinhwan catches on, mouth rounding into a smile. “Go ahead.”

Hanbin drops his hands onto Jinhwan’s shoulders, closing the space between them. His mouth meets Jinhwan’s in an open kiss, half teeth and half lukewarm shower water. The hard tile of the shower stall floor is brutal against Hanbin’s knees and his arms are tense from where they’re looped awkwardly around Jinhwan’s neck, but he feels giddy, blood racing, like he’s about to hum out of his skin with desire.

Somewhere amidst the sloppy making out, Jinhwan ends up with his back against the glass door, Hanbin between his open legs. When Jinhwan reaches down to cup Hanbin’s balls this time, he’s ready. He groans, arching into the touch, and he can feel Jinhwan’s self-satisfied smile careen up the side of his face. Jinhwan’s grip around his cock is a little looser and slower than how he usually likes it, but the very fact that it’s not his own hand is almost more than enough. In fact, that it’s _Jinhwan’s_ palm, smaller and smoother than Hanbin’s, patient but relentless, still tugging even after Hanbin drops his head to Jinhwan’s shoulder, satisfied and panting against his skin.

When Jinhwan finally pulls away, lifting his hand to let the water wash away the mess, Hanbin remembers his manners. “Let me,” he says, reaching for Jinhwan’s dick.

Though Jinhwan’s dick isn’t that different from his own size-wise, there’s definitely a different weight to it in his hand. Hanbin needs a moment to figure out which direction works for him, but once he has it figured out he’s off like a gunshot, holding Jinhwan’s cock in the tight circle of his fist and moving it up and down in brisk, steady strokes.

Jinhwan lasts a little longer than Hanbin, but he comes with a curse when Hanbin, out of curiosity, takes the thin skin of his earlobe between his teeth. He takes a deep breath through his nose, smiles at Hanbin. They’re an uncomfortable mess of limbs on the shower floor, but Jinhwan still lets Hanbin lean against him for a minute, carding a hand through his hair. Hanbin searches inside of himself for a deep-burrowed shame, embarrassment, awkwardness, something, but doesn’t find anything but contentment. Maybe a touch of smugness, too, once he remembers the eager way Jinhwan’s mouth had opened beneath his. Jinhwan gets up on impressively steady legs.

“Okay,” he says, voice a little softer than usual. He turns off the water, then offers his hand to Hanbin, helping him up. “Time to get out. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”)


End file.
